Broken Soul
by AlxM
Summary: 5.04. AU. The brothers have been seperated for 6 months. Unbeknown to Dean that in all of these months, his little brother has been getting tortured by the hunters. When he finds that out, he goes for his rescue. But when he finds him, he doesn't like what the months of torture has done to his baby brother. No Slash. Lots of brotherly love.
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY**: The brothers had been seperated for six months. Unbeknown to Dean that in all those months, his little brother has been kidnapped by some hunters. And when he finds that out, he goes for his rescue. But when he finds him, he doesn't like what the months of torture has done to him.

**SET**: Season 5, Episode 4

**WARNINGS**: Torture, Sam might be OOC and I'm sure you guys understand why. :)

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Hey guys! This is the rewrite of 'Mentally Broken'. I hope you guys enjoy it. And please, don't forget to review! Reviews are love and courage!

* * *

**_CHAPTER 1_**

* * *

He _never_ stopped hoping, even after Dean told him that they were better off apart, that they were weaker together. He spent hours, staring at his phone, hoping for Dean to call him, hoping Dean would change his mind, call him to meet up at a random location and reunite again, become hunting partners again.

Become brothers again.

_"Look, Sam - it doesn't matter - whatever we do. I mean, it turns out that you and me, we're the, uh - the fire and the oil of the Armageddon. You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere. Stay away from each other for good." Dean said._

_"Dean, it does not have to be like this. We can fight it." Sam replied desperately.  
_

_"Yeah, you're right. We can. But not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us - love, family, whatever it is - They are always gonna use it against us. And you know that. We're better off apart. We got a better chance of dodging Lucifer and Michael and this whole damn thing, if we just go our own ways."_

He knew that Dean didn't want anything to do with him now. But they were still brothers, they were still family. Maybe Dean wouldn't take him back, but he'd still call him every once in a while, right? He doesn't hate him that much.

Even though Dean had made it clear and final, he still hoped someday, any day, whether it took weeks, months or even _years_, Dean would take him back, let him back in. But maybe, after everything that he's done, after his betrayal, maybe it was just too good to be true. Is that why Dean didn't want him back? He thought they were over that.

_Guess I was kinda stupid to think that_. He thought to himself.

He was stressed out, being Lucifer's vessel wasn't an honor at all. Every night, the devil himself would visit him in his dreams, try to torture him or his loved one's into making him say yes. He'd taunt him about how Dean didn't want him anymore, ask him that '_What are you fighting for_?'.

Well, that was a question he needed to think about.

And then the hunters, who were hot on his trail, trying to seek revenge for their friend's death by trying to force demon blood down his throat and make him exorcise the demon that murdered their best friend.

But the one thing that worried him the most, was Dean not taking him back.

He bit his lower lip as he felt tears blurring his vision and held his head in his hands. He sighed deeply as memories flashed through his mind like a movie. Things used to be so simple, when clowns were the scariest things to him. When simple and easy hunts like wendigos used to be so hard. When he used to be the most important person in Dean's life. Now, it's like he's been replaced by the angel of the lord, Castiel.

Nobody wants him, except the devil. Not angels, not demons, not even Dean.

Now he was truly considering the question. What is he fighting for anyway?

Suddenly, his thoughts were cut off by a noise, that sounded like someone picking a lock. He stood up cautiously as he stared at his door lock. His hunter instincts that haven't been used for weeks, finally kicking in. He swallowed as he looked at his pillow. He left all his weapons to Dean, except a .45 that was under his pillow right now.

_Maybe, you should just let_ _them take you_. A voice in the back of his mind said. He shook the thought off his head.

Before he could react, the door busted open. There appeared four people who were no doubt hunters. Two of them he recognised as Tim and Reggie from the bar, the other two, not at all. The two jumped on him, grabbing hold of his arms. He struggled to get out of their grasp but it was no use, they were stronger than him. And a stinging sensation in his neck, and then blackness immediately took over him.

"Told you we'd come back." Tim said lowly.

* * *

Sam's eyes fluttered open. His head and neck throbbed mercilessly. He turned his head at the room and his eyes furrowed in confusion as he jerked up. It all hit him at once, the hunters had kidnapped him.

_Shit_. He thought to himself.

His eyes drifted to the chains cuffing him to the cot.

"So, you're finally awake, Sammy." He heard a familiar voice and looked over at the door to find Tim, Reggie and a few other hunters. He looked around, the room slightly reminded him of Bobby's panic room, with the cot and the metal door and all. He looked back at Tim and glared angrily. He struggled with the chains.

"That wouldn't do a jack, Sammy." Tim said smugly.

"It's Sam." Sam replied as he struggled furiously with the chains. He finally stopped as he realized that it really isn't working at all. He breathed a sigh of frustration. "So, what are you going to do with me now?" Sam asked half-heartedly.

"Well, I'll make you a little deal. You do as I say, drink some demon juice, come with us and gank the demon that killed our best friend, and we'll let you go. If you say no...well, we won't let you go." Tim smiled.

"No." Sam answered stoicly. "I'll never do it."

An expression of anger flashed through his face and went away quickly as it came, replaced with a smug smirk. "Well then.." He sighed and looked at one of the hunters, who handed him a whip.

Sam swallowed at the fierce-looking weapon and knew he's not going to like what's coming next. He started struggling with the chains frantically.

He felt his back split open and gasped in agony as he fell on his side, curling up against the intense pain. The whip bit into his flesh again as it slashed across his waist. The burning pain was merciless and unforgiving and he bit his lip hard to keep himself from screaming and satisfy them with his weakness and with how much in pain he was. But a few salty tears of agony managed to slip from his closed eyes somehow, trailing down his cheek.

Another slash across his back that made him curl tighter, making him smaller. Another slash, and another, and another, and again.

He could barely hear them laugh at his suffering. All he could focus on was the pain that kept coming.

He breathed heavily through the merciless burning pain that took over his body. He opened his eyes in slits and lifted his head slightly to look at what they were doing, watching helplessly as Tim switched his tool to a metal pipe.

Tim swung the hard silver cylinder at his ribs ruthlessly, hard enough to bruise them, but thankfully, not break them. But it was still painful like hell as he cried out in pain. Another blow flew to his gut and he let out a small, embarrasing whimper that sent all his torturers laughing brutally.

"_Deean_..." He whimpered out. Although he knew Dean wasn't here, he still called. He knew Dean isn't going to come and rescue his sorry ass like he used to, because after all that he did, Dean probably hates him. But his name gave him a strange sense of comfort.

"Dean's not here." Tim smiled wickedly and slowly bent down. "And he isn't going to come and save you...because he's a hunter, and you're a monster, Sam." He spat.

Sam shook his head frantically as tears filled his eyes. "N-no, m'not, m'clean."

Tim laughed. "Yeah right." He said as he straightened and raised the metal pipe, aiming for his next blow.

He also knew that the torture wasn't ending now...it was just _beginning_.

* * *

So, what do you think? Review please.

AW, poor Sammy. I hate those hunters. :( Oh, and I apologize for not updating my other story. I've been having stomachaches like...every single day. It's becoming a daily thing, and I had to go to the hospital. :/


	2. Chapter 2

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_: I'd like to thank everyone who favorited and alerted this story. You're all awesome! I'm really glad you're enjoying this. :) I'd also like to thank my awesome reviewers, AngelOfToday096, LeighAnnWallace, jensensgirl3, babyreaper, NAVILLUS, Souless666, micksmouse, samgirl19, sk, Wolf Blood 66, Karate for Kurata, Ally, BloodyRosie, AlElizabeth. You guys rock!

* * *

_**CHAPTER 2**_

* * *

-**SIX _MONTHS_ LATER**

Dean paced back and forth, his cellphone in his hand. He had been calling Sam for about a half an hour. It's not like him to be ignoring his calls, so he knew that couldn't be possible. He's worried and all the horror shows going inside his head is really not helping. What if a supernatural creature had kidnapped him? Or maybe he's...not gonna go there. And Bobby just warned him that some hunters know about Sam's demon blood addiction and starting the apocalypse.

It's been about twenty two hours since he came back from the time travel to five years forward and he just didn't wanna believe that Sam had said yes to Lucifer, but he did. Who could blame the kid? He never realised that until now. Sam had been alone. All this time, he needed Dean and he turned him down. He actually thought that they were better off apart, but he was wrong. They kept each other human.

They were brothers - family. And they might use that against them but, they were still stronger together..._no matter what_.

And that's why he needs to have him back. But he's not even answering his phone calls and he resists the urge to throw his cellphone across the room as he closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Maybe he's out somewhere, in a bar, maybe and...he just forgot to take his phone with him. That seems more likely.

_That stupid moron_.

He sighed wearily as he plopped down on the edge lf his bed, eyes furrowed, nose buried in his phone, deep in thoughts.

Maybe he should just leave him a voicemail. Then, he'll probably call him back. He nodded to himself at the idea and stood up once again. He put the phone to his ear and bit his lower lip as he heard his little brother's voice for the first time in six months.

_Hey, it's Sam. Leave me a message_. _**BEEP**_.

"Hey, it's me, Dean.." He sighed heavily. "I'm not really good with all of this crap but...listen, what I said earlier, about staying away from each other for good...about being better off apart. I...I shouldn't have said that. I was a jerk and I'm really sorry for that." He sighed again. "I don't know what they're gonna do, what's gonna happen...but what I do know is that we're all we've got. We keep each other human. I just...I want us to be together again, you know? Just...call me when you get this, okay?" _BEEP_.

He sighed heavily and plopped back on the bed, elbows resting on his lap as he let his forehead rest in his phone.

Now for the worst game in the history of games...the waiting game.

* * *

He kept rocking back and forth, faster each minute. His legs were pulled close to his chest and his arms wrapped tight around them with his forehead resting on his knees. He stilled as he heard footsteps and lifted his head, his eyes darting around in panic. Oh God, they're coming. He slowly uncurled with his palms flat on the dirty cot as the footsteps got closer and he slowly started scooting further away into the corner in apprehension. His breath coming out shaky when the door pulled open. He pressed himself deeper against the corner as his torturers walked in.

"Sammy!" Tim called happily. He wore his usual smug expression as he walked inside, with what looked like a phone in his hand.

The hunters have long before given up on forcing demon blood down his throat to make him kill the demons that murdered their friend. He was useless to them now. So all they can do is avenge the world that this monster had brought an end to.

Sam flinched at his voice as he stared at him with terrified eyes. Every _single_ day, he took beatings that lasted for hours, that lasted until he couldn't help it, couldn't do a thing but cry and beg. And he was sure that there was barely a spot where he isn't bruised or wounded between his neck and his lower abdomen. His face were covered with bruises and his clothes were ripped and bloody and dirty. He lost a lot of muscle and his eyes had shadows under them and he looked exhausted and scared...no, _terrified_ with every minute of his life. Psychologically wounded.

"Relax Sammy. I'm not here to hurt you, _for now_." Tim put the voicemail on play.

_"Hey, it's me, Dean." Sigh. "I'm not really good with all of crap but...listen what I said earlier, about staying away from each other for good...about being better off apart. I...I shouldn't have said that. I was a jerk and I'm really sorry for that." Another sigh. "I don't know what they're gonna do, what's gonna happen...but what I do know is that we're all we've got. We keep each other human. I just...I want us to be together again, you know? Just...call me when you get this, okay?" BEEP._

Tim sighed in mock sympathy. "Even your brother decided to leave your sorry ass, can't say I blame him." He said as he pressed down on a few buttons, smiling as he brought the phone to his ear and he walked towards his victim.

"Sam?" The other line breathed out in unhidden relief.

"Hey Dean." Tim said.

* * *

Hmmmm...something about this chapter that just disappoints me, no idea why. I hope you guys find nothing wrong though. BTW, sorry for the short chapter and the familiarity and also the late updates. I'm a sick puppy, no literally actually. I've been coughing my lungs out.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_: Oomph! I'm gettin' a little rusty, since I haven't exactly been writing. Hmmm...I'm gonna need to work on it and build my writing skills. Yep.

* * *

_**CHAPTER 3**_

"Hey Dean." Tim said, still wearing his smug expression and smirk.

The other line silenced for a small minute, before it spoke again in a quite angry tone. "_...Who are you? And why the hell do you have my brother's phone_?" Dean asked, the anger was evident in his voice as it shook, but there was a hint of fear in it too.

"You call yourself a hunter, Deano?" He asked smugly.

"_Cut the crap and just tell me where my brother is_!" Dean yelled into the phone angrily.

"You call this..._thing_ your brother?" He sneered mockingly. "How did you even live with him? He's a freakin' _monster_! you should've hunt him down a long ti - "

"_Screw you_." Dean spat angrily. "_I'm asking you this, once again. Where. The. Hell. Is. My. Brother_?"

A long silence ensued, before Tim chuckled. "Well then, if you asked so. He's with us, _been_ with us _for six months_ now. Oh, and he's alive, just not in one piece." The pride in his voice just made Dean even more furious. "You wanna talk to little Sammy?" He asked lowly as he bent in front of Sam, who started scooting further away and made a small fearful noise in his throat when the hunter grabbed his arm.

"_Sammy_? - _Sammy! Hey, listen to me!_" He swallowed down the lump in his throat as he heard him whimper. "_I'll get you out of there, alright? I'll find a way to save you_."

"_If_ you can find us, Deano." Tim smirked and another whimper sounded out in the background.

"_Don't you freakin' dare touch him_." He threatened angrily. His voice was low but dangerous, shaking with rage. "_If you so much as touch a hair on his head, then I swear to God, I'm gonna find you, and I'm gonna kill you, slowly and painfully_.."

"Oh I'm really scared now, Dean." He said sarcastically.

Dean hung up the phone and closed his eyes. At first, he just stood there quietly for a while, trying to contain whatever he's feeling. Anger, fear, guilt, regret.

It didn't work. His arm lashed out and shot over the desk behind him, sliding everything off on the desk in fury. The glass of the flower vase shattered as it fell to the ground, scattering the little shards everywhere on the room. He picked up one of the chairs and threw it across the room.

He was angry...no, _furious_. He was furious at everything. He was furious at his life, furious at those damned hunters...but most of all, he was furious with himself, for turning Sam down when he needed him the most, for leaving him to fend for himself, for letting him leave in the first place. And it's all coming back to bite him in the ass.

_Six goddamn months_.

He fell against the wall and slid down as he cradled his head in his hands. _Six_ months. The torments that he might've endured, probably every _single_ day. What he probably had to go through, for hours, all alone.

He swallowed and blinked back his tears, no time to fall apart right now. He needed to save his little brother as soon as possible. He sniffed lightly and opened his phone, dialed the number that he knew by heart. Someone he could always count on in times of need.

The other line picked up after four rings and spoke after a few seconds. "_Kid_?" The gruff voice asked.

"Hey Bobby." He said, trying his best to mask all his anxiety and distress.

"_What did you get yourself into this time_?" Bobby asked knowingly and he smiled slightly at how Bobby knew him so well. But the smile faded eventually.

Silence. "...The hunters...they got him, Bobby." He told him as he struggled not to think about the whimpers and not to cry

"They got Sam. In fact, they've had him for _six_ months." He said shakily.

The silence on the other line told him that the older man was quite astonished but he managed to stutter out slowly. "_S-six months_?" He asked, not wanting to believe it. And even more, not wanting to _think_ about what the youngest Winchester had gone through in those six months.

"It's all my fault. I shouldn't have turned him down, I shouldn't have - " He kept babbling, more to himself, but Bobby cut him off.

"_Damnit Dean, this is no time for pity party! Now, you need to tell me who the hunters are_."

"I...I dunno, the bastard never mentioned his name." Dean answered.

"_Okay, never mind that. First of all, we need to track them down, find out where they are. Second, you need back-up. Now, I know that you're a pretty good hunter, but it's still risky to go out there alo -_ "

"I'll just take Cas with me or I'll just go alone." Dean said, his tone warned for no arguments. And although Bobby noticed that, he still tried.

"_Don't be stupid, Dean. There are probably a lot more people than you, and not to mention, they're also hunters. You can't take them all on your own_." Bobby argued.

"I will if I have to."

"_Dean, why_?" Bobby asked softly.

"Who do you think we can trust, Bobby!" He snapped angrily, but Bobby didn't take offense in the least. He understood the kid's anger, which was in truth a disguise of concern and fear for his little brother.

"_Dean, I'm talking about friends, people we can trust. Rufus, Ellen, Jo. Look, I understand -_ "

"I know that, but no thanks, Bobby...I'm sorry." He sighed softly. "This isn't about me. This is about Sammy."

Bobby sighed wearily. "_Alright then. Just...please, be careful, okay_?"

"Yeah, thanks Bobby."

"_No problem. And when you get Sam out of there, you idjits come straight to my house, no arguments._" Bobby said.

Dean chuckled. "Alright Bobby, bye." He said and hung the phone up.

Surely, if Bobby wasn't paralyzed, he would've been his back-up, and it would've made things easier.

* * *

"**CAS**! Get your feathery ass down here right the hell _now_!" Dean yelled of impatience. He had been calling the angel for about an hour now and his patience was certainly wearing thin. Castiel hasn't been answering any of his calls lately and he knew he probably had some important work to do in heaven or Sammy was more important. Each minute that passed grew his anxiety even worse, because for all he knows, his kid brother is probably getting tormented at this moment. And that just makes his anxiety even worse.

"**CAS**! You feathery son of a bitch! If you don't come down here right now, I'm totally gonna kick your ass!" He yelled out once again.

He looked around the motel room, waited, hoping to see the nerdy angel in a tan trench coat, probably invading his personal space or something.

No such luck. The room was empty as it is.

"Cas please." He pleaded softly to the yet, still empty room, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's important..._it's my little brother_."

* * *

Hey guys! So, English isn't my first language and that's why I'm not so good at writing. But I've been trying to improve my skills and I was hoping if you guys have any writing tips to help me out on this. So, if you do then please review it or PM me. No flamers though.

Thank you.


	4. Chapter 4

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_: Hey guys! So I haven't updated in a while. Well, honestly...I've been on quite a writer block so I just did what I can to make this chapter good enough. Thank you all for your great support, everyone who faved/alerted/reviewed my stories. :)

* * *

Dean was going out of his mind as he paced back and forth anxiously, with all the horror shows that are going through his head as to what they might be doing to his brother right now. He didn't really like how he sounded in the phone. He sounded so _scared_ and _broken_ and _vulnerable_ and so damn _helpless_.

He had been trying to figure out a way to find and save his little brother from the hands of those ruthless monsters all the while struggling with the guilt that was weighing him down, wondering if things could've happened differently if he took Sam in and didn't turn him down.

It was a huge mistake. He realized that now. They were never better off apart, because something always went wrong when they were apart. And Sam had forgiven all of his unforgivable mistakes, had never held it against him. And even if he did, it wasn't for long. Sammy didn't even think twice about forgiving him when he confessed to him about hell and all the things that he did. Hell, he didn't even believe there was anything to forgive. He had blamed himself for the starting of the apocalypse when Dean had a hand in it too, and Dean had blamed him for it to even when he had no right to. Maybe, he was just scared to admit about his part in bringing on the apocalypse.

He plopped down on the edge of his bed and sighed frustratedly. He couldn't think of a damn thing.

He felt anger and frustration bubble up inside of him as his fists and jaw clenched and unclenched as if he just wants to pummel something, _or maybe someone_. He thought as he fantasized using all the tricks he learned from Alastair on those damn hunters. The thought brought a small vicious smile to his face. But he struggled to keep it all at bay as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relaxed his tense posture to calm himself down. Because he knew his anger isn't going to help him in the least.

He sighed and rested his elbows on his lap, his nose between his knuckles as he tried to think of a way to rescue Sam. The hunters have got to leave some trail as to where they took his little brother.

He startled and jumped slightly when his phone rang in his jean's pocket and stared at the glowing screen that flashed 'Bobby'. After a few rings before he answered it. "Hey Bobby, you got anything?" Dean greeted.

"_Hey Dean. Well, yeah actually. I've found a tracking spell. And I think you should come to my place. I might need a little help since my legs are kinda...immobile_." Bobby said.

"Uh, yeah, okay. I'll be there." Dean said and with that, he hung up the phone as he walked over to his duffel bag. Everything was already packed inside, so he just shouldered it and walked outside and into his beloved car. He gunned the engine and drove towards the rental office to check out.

* * *

Time had elapsed quite slowly for him and he lost track of it. He doesn't remember how long it has been, but it felt like years, like his whole life. He doesn't remember anything at all, not even his own name, except the torment and agony that he endured these past months or _years_ or however long it had been.

He laid, curling into a fetal position, to relieve some of the agony. The beatings would leave him exhausted, but he couldn't fall asleep, couldn't go into the world of oblivion. He found no peace anywhere, not even in dreams. He'd only get to relive the torture if he fell asleep.

He felt something wet and warm slide down the corner of his eyes and he let out a small, quiet sob.

The sound of the unlocking of the metal door echoed into the room and he started to panic as his heart rate started increasing and his breathing turned shaky and rapid. He jerked up and immediately forced himself into the corner, ignoring the pain the sudden movement caused. He curled into himself and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried his forehead on his knees, rocking back and forth.

One of the hunters named Mark walked in, with a plate of moldy food. A sandwich that had black fungus covering some places of the bread. And that's why he had become quite abstemious that elucidated his loss of muscle and the weight of his body and strength.

Mark walked over to the untidy cot and bent down as he pushed the unwashed plate towards him. "Here's your food." Mark snarled disgustedly as he eyed the tainted monster curled fetally in the corner.

He hesitantly shook his head lightly as he rocked back and forth, which only seemed to anger the hunter even more.

"You're supposed to take what you're given, you ungrateful little shit!" He screamed angrily at him.

He rocked faster, his hands fisted in his head, his trembling arms desperately trying to block out all the psychologically abusive, taunting words.

"D-don'..._pl'se_." He pleaded tearfully, his voice barely above a broken whisper.

Mark breathed heavily with fury raging inside of him. "_Monster_." He spat in disgust before walking out.

_Monster. Freak. Evil. Disgusting. Tainted. Worthless. Pathetic. Monster. Freak. Evil. Disgusting. Tainted. Worthless. Pathetic_. _Monster. Freak. Evil. Disgusting. Tainted. Worthless. Pathetic_.

He sobbed brokenly as the voices taunted him in his head and he desperately tried to cover his ears, drive the voices away, pressed his trembling palms against his ears and rocked back and forth, desperate to push them out of his traumatised mind. The tears poured out of his eyes and flowed openly down his cheeks, letting out small, broken whimpers constantly.

And somewhere deep in the back of his mind, where he probably couldn't hear it, there was a small voice that kept repeating the same plea.

_Dean, save me please_.

* * *

Dean had tried calling Castiel for help, but he wasn't answering and it just kept going to voicemail. He wasn't going to trust any other hunter for back-up, so he only had one option, and that was to go in alone.

_I'm coming, Sammy_.

Here he stood, outside of a dusty and a crappy building, a gun ready in his hand and he's definitely not afraid to use it. He'd kill a human if it means to save his baby brother. Hell, they're not even human anymore in his eyes. They're just the monsters who have hurt his little brother. And once he gets him out of here, he's going to mutilate those bastards.

He picked the lock of the dirty wooden door and slowly pushed the creaking door open, which he hoped nobody heard.

He walked inside slowly and as quietly as possible, a loaded gun on his hand. He looked around cautiously, his senses on alert.

He jumped slightly when he heard laughter boom from his left and he pressed his back against the wall as he moved towards where the voices were coming from.

"The way he's always rocking back and forth and whimpering, _pathetic_!" One of the hunters exclaimed and he heard them all laugh, which made his blood boil with anger and he resisted the urge to go in and shoot them all at once.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his anger. _Save Sammy and get out of here_. He repeated it like a mantra in his head. The bastards were in the kitchen, drinking beers and having fun while Sam is somewhere here, beaten and vulnerable.

He turned away and was about to walk off to find his brother.

Until he felt his back slam against the wall, dropping the gun in surprise and he let out a small grunt of pain. Then a hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed.

"Who the hell are you!" He yelled loudly, which might have brought the attention of all the other hunters. _Shit_.

Dean kicked him in the leg, it was feeble but it was enough to make him release the hold around his throat and he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him. "Where is my brother?" He growled in his ear angrily.

The hunter furrowed his eyebrows, but then smirked as the realization hit him. "Oh...so you are _the_ Dean Winchester. I didn't really think you'd come, thought you might've finally realized that your brother's nothing but a tainted, disgusting mon - " He was cut off by his own scream of agony as Dean lifted his arm higher and he heard a sickening snap of his own bone breaking, the pain made him fall to his knees as Dean continued to raise it higher behind his back and finally, he passed out as he fell to the ground in a thud.

"Don't you dare talk about my brother like that.." Dean whispered furiously.

And he turned around, only to find more trouble as a fist came swinging straight at his face but he ducked instinctively just in time. He threw a hard kick to his gut and the hunter fell to the ground in agony. He turned to the other six hunters.

"_Dean_." Tim said and cocked his head as he smiled.

Dean stared, his mouth gaping in disbelief. _Tim, he was one of dad's friends_.

He didn't notice as the hunter behind him recovered and he raised the butt of the gun and connected it with his head.

* * *

Hey guys! So I was on a writer's block and that's why I haven't updated for a while, but now I'm back! :D

Karate For Kurata, LeighAnnWallace, NotOnFlatBread, Dean'sLilAngel, UThnkUrFunny IThnkImAdorable, micksmouse, jensensgirl3, Ally, Souless666, kiwimoonelmo, angeleyenc, JaredPadaleckiFan, AlElizabeth, brynerose and all the people who have faved and alerted this story. Thank you so much! :)


	5. Chapter 5

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_: Hey guys! Thank you all so much for supporting me y'all! Thanks to those who faved and alerted and reviewed this story. :) hope you enjoy this!

* * *

**_CHAPTER 5_**

His green eyes fluttered but only managed to open in slits and he rolled his head slightly as he let out a pain-filled moan. He had a terrible ache eating at the back of his head right now and he reached a heavy hand towards the place, giving a groan as his fingers brushed on giant golf-ball there. He placed his plams flat on the dusty ground and lifted himself up slowly on his elbows as to not get himself a dose of dizziness. Fully opening his green eyes, he blinked against the blur flooding his vision.

"You're awake." A voice said and he looked over to see two eyes peeking through a rectangular gap in the metal door.

_Tim_. He immediately recognized as and everything started to come back to him as he looked from side to side from the corner of his eyes. _How the hell am I going to rescue my brother_? He's captured now, and by who? Out of all the hunters, it was an old friend of dad's.

"You son of a bitch." Dean growled angrily. "I swear if dad was here, he would've so kicked yo - "

"He would've agreed with what I am doing...John was a good hunter, Dean. He sees something evil and he kills it." Tim said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah well, Sam's not evil. If anyone's the monster here, then it's you." He sneered.

"Well, I don't really think I'm the one who has evil running through my veins. I don't think I was the one who sucked down demon juice and exorcised demons with my mind or maybe, started the end of the world?" Tim said smugly. "You wanna defend your monster brother, that's fine. But it doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that he's nothing but a tainted, repulsive freak and an evil monster." He snarled disgustedly.

"You better take that back." Dean growled dangerously. "'Cause when I get my hands on you...trust me, it ain't gonna be pretty." He threatened furiously.

"You'll only be able to do that if you could find a way out of here, Dean-o." Tim smiled smugly.

"Oh believe me. I'm gonna find a way out of here with Sammy. And I'm gonna come after you and your pals over there even if it's the last thing I do." Dean vowed confidently.

Tim chuckled. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." He said which made Dean's glare intensify even more at the hunter. And with that, he walked off with a smug expression that Dean has the overwhelming urge to wipe off his face.

"What a dick." He muttered under his breath and sighed softly. He just hoped that Bobby would somehow be able to tell Castiel about this place. He looked around the room observantly. The walls were painted white and they were dusty and dirty. The room smelled nasty as if it had barely been cleaned in here. The metal door and the cot part slightly reminded him of Bobby's panic room.

His eyes slowly moved around the room, but then he stilled frozen as he just noticed a fetally curled figure on the further corner of the cot. He furrowed his eyebrows, his head was still aching like a bitch. The shaggy head was curled into himself, his forehead pressing on the arms resting on top of his knees and he couldn't really see his face, but felt a tug lifting the corner of his lips as realization kicked in.

He smiled in relief as he lifted himself off the filthy, disgusting ground and ran over to him.

"Sammy." He whispered softly, even as he noticed the flinch and the rapid breathing, he didn't stop. "Sammy, hey, it's me, it's Dean." He said. No response. "Sammy, it's Dean." He tried again. He knew he was awake, of course, by his breathing pattern. But he didn't understand why Sam wasn't listening to him.

He bit his lower lip as he stared at his brother's head, who still refused to respond or move.

So Dean did the only thing he could do to get his attention. He gripped his biceps firmly and, despite hearing his terror-filled whimpers, gave him a rough jerk.

"Sam! Look at me!" He yelled desperately as he gave him another rough jerk, which only made him all the more terrified as he threw his arms over his head and started rocking back and forth, curling tighter into himself and his whole body trembling with apprehension, making him impossibly smaller as he made little sounds of whimpers constantly. And it scared Dean to the core and it made him worried even more than he already was. What did these bastards do to him to make him like this? "Look at me, _damn it_! It's me!" He tried again, desperation and fear and concern overwhelming him.

He jerked him once again. This time, hard enough to snap his head up, but he still didn't make eye contact with him. His face was twisted as if he's _crying_ and surely, tears started pooling in his eyes and he let out a helpless sob, which made his gut wrench with guilt for doing this to him, but he knew he had to.

He got a good look at his face. He had livid bruises forming on his face. His jaw, cheek, above the eye, below the eye, temple. He had dark circles shadowing around his bloodshot eyes, like he hasn't been sleeping a lot these days. He lost a good amount of muscle and weight and strength. He felt anger spark inside of him at these monsters, but then relief took over him as his little brother finally looked at him, thinking that he finally realized who it was.

"Sam." He breathed out his brother's name, feeling a sudden gush of relief wash down on him, but it disappeared quickly as he heard those four words that brought his whole world crashing down around him.

"_Pl'se don' hur' me_." He pleadingly croaked out in a cracked, squeaky and a trembling voice.

He gazed into his eyes deeply, finding nothing but pure terror and fear. This wasn't Sam anymore; not the Sam he knew. This Sam was scared and broken and _traumatized_. He doesn't even recognize him anymore.

He felt his grip slowly loosen on his biceps as he simultaneously felt a mixture of emotions. Anger at himself and these damned hunters, remorse, guilt, shame, sadness. He didn't know what to do, so he just backed away as he tried to suppress his tears, wanting to do nothing but break down and cry, because it's partly _his_ fault, that he became like this. If he could go back, he'd take him back, God knows he would, just so Sammy wouldn't have to be like - _this_.

He just moved over to the other corner of the room and sat away as far but as near as possible, wondering if things could've been different if he let his brother back with him.

Wondering if things are ever going to get better.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to everyone who faved, alerted and reviewed the last chapter! :) I'm glad you're enjoying it.

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_**CHAPTER 6**_

Dean woke up groggily to the echoing sounds of several boots thudding on the ground, which was no doubt coming from the other side of the room. He lifted his head off the wall but immediately regretted it as pain shot through his neck from falling asleep in an awkward angle and his hand shot up to the back of his neck as he let out a groan. He looked over to his little brother through barely open eyes, who was curled up on his side, his back facing the room. His hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead and the lines on his face indicates that he's not sleeping very peacefully.

His eyes shot fully open at the creaking door swung open, clanking loudly as it hit the wall. Six hunters walked in, one of them holding the torture tools, but out of all, it was the fierce-looking whip and the metal pipe that sent a shudder down his spine. But he still hoped whatever they're about to inflict, they'd inflict it on him instead of his baby brother. He looked over at Sam, who woke to the echoing clank of metal against the wall and had a terrified look on his face. His breathing was rapid as he pressed impossibly further into the corner. Dean really didn't like how scared he was.

He looked back at the hunters and felt himself panic when he realised that they were walking towards his little brother and an angry scream burst through his lips before he even knew it. "**HEY**! You stay away from my brother you hear me!" He yelled, trying to sound threatening and angry, but instead, sounding only desperate.

They heard him clearly, but they chose not to listen. Tim, knowing Dean obviously wouldn't just sit and watch the show, looked at two of the hunters and jerked his chin towards the elder Winchester. The two hunters nodded and then walked towards him, restraining his arms. He didn't notice, because he only had his eyes for his brother, until he felt them grasp his arms in a vice-like grip. He glared at them angrily as he writhed and jerked, but it was all fruitless.

"Leave him alone you bastard!" He yelled desperately through his gritted teeth. He kept glancing helplessly between the hunters and his little brother, who cowered in the corner, curling impossibly tighter into himself as if trying to disappear, arms thrown over his head as he whimpered, rocking back and forth. "Do what you want with me but you better leave him alone!"

Tim finally decided to look at him. A smug smirk broke out at his lips. "This _is_ what I'm gonna do to you, Dean-o, make you watch baby brother whimper and sob, like a pathetic baby." He snarled somberly as he took the whip and snapped the weapon on the floor, making his victim flinch and whimper in fear.

"Don't you dare.." He growled as he struggled frantically under their grip. "You wanna use that thing on someone, use it on me!"

They ignored him. When they swung the fierce weapon on his brother's waist, who fell curling on his side immediately when the pain bit his flesh, broken and pain-filled whimpers escaping from his throat.

Another slash across his baby brother's back. It all kept coming, Dean flinched with every sharp snap, tried not to _look,_ because it freakin' hurts. It hurts worse than hell, every little broken sound that his brother made, tore at him, cut him straight through his heart like a razor blade. Every helpless sob clenched at his heart. But no matter what, he couldn't look away, couldn't do anything to stop it.

He couldn't do anything except watch helplessly.

**xXx**

It's been three days since Dean had left. And the time for Bobby to start worrying had long before passed already as he wheeled anxiously back and forth, redialing Dean's number over and over, but it seems that his phone has been switched off.

"Damn it Dean! Pick up your damn phone!" Bobby yelled frustratedly to the quiet room, throwing the phone on the table and running both of his hands down his weary face.

That's when he started to fear the worst. What if he's dead? What if they both are? What if he's taken too? Damn idjits always get themselves on some kind of trouble.

"Damn it." Bobby whispered to himself. He can't go save them, so there's only one other person that Dean trusts other than Bobby himself. He grabbed the phone once again and dialed Castiel's number, which went straight to voicemail. The angel must be busy, searching for God.

"I don't know if you know, but Sam's been taken, and right now Dean's out there to save him. But I have a bad feeling the stupid idjit's got himself into trouble, so you better get your feathery ass down here as soon as you get this, you hear me?"

He threw his phone on the table and wheeled himself to the fridge, took out a beer bottle. He took a glass and poured himself a drink, finishing all of it in one gulp.

These boys are gonna be the death of him.

**XxX**

It had been over three hours, probably might've been days, considering the time going so slow for Dean in those moments. They were brutal, uncaring about how much pain they inflicted on him, like they were taking all of the anger and frustration in their lifetime out on his little brother. At one point, he started screaming, they only laughed at him, which angered Dean a lot. But his rage was quickly replaced by heartache when his brother started crying openly and hysterically.

"You ruthless son of a bitch." He could only whisper shakily. He tried to sound angry, but the tears in his eyes and his face betrayed him.

Tim only smirked. "You know...in the first few weeks or months, when he still remembered you?" He sighed in mock pity. "He kept saying you'd come for him, ya know, save him and all." He chuckled. "But then, you never did. Don't think he believed that a lot himself though. It's _pathetic_. And the way he used to whimper out your name - even _more_ pathetic." He said and shook his head as he turned away, gesturing for his fellows to follow. The two other hunters let go of Dean and they all walked out, closing the door.

That only proceeded to fill more tears in his eyes, but he sighed and blinked them away as he looked over at his little brother, who was lying curled up on his side, his back to the room, his shoulders shaking. He stood up on stiff legs and walked slowly towards his baby brother's side, crouching down beside him. "Sammy?" He whispered out his name softly, who flinched violently at his voice. He bit his lower lip and reached out a hand, holding it over his head and faltered, before resting it on his hair. He flinched and whimpered, trying to curl into himself even closer and trying to ignore the burning agony each movement caused.

Dean only pressed his forehead against the back of his shoulder, ignoring the violent flinch, he rested a hand on his arm and continued to whisper soothing words against his back. "S'okay, Sammy...s'okay. I gotcha." He whispered as tears filled his eyes and his face crumpled. "M'not gonna hurt you...not gonna let anyone hurt you, _ever again_." He continued to whisper shakily. "I promise."

He sucked in a deep shaky breath and swiped at his eyes. He stood up and sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at him. His eyes were still darting around in fear, then he stilled completely when he felt the weight on the cot. He looked as if he wanted to bolt and run, but knew he couldn't. His eyes filled with tears and tried to suppress a sob. Is he going to go through another beating?

He started sobbing helplessly, tears streaming down his face.

He closed his eyes, biting down on his lower lip. He sighed and rubbed his shoulder gently. When he didn't calm down, he moved to the other side of the bed and grabbed his biceps and lifted him off the cot. He brought his face against his chest and wrapped his arms around his back, ignoring his heart-clenching whimpers and weak attempts at trying to fight him off.

"Shh...s'okay." He whispered into his hair.

He kept his arms around his broken and beaten body, even after he gave in and slumped against him, his breath hitching and tears rolling down his cheek uncontrollably, crying so hard that he could barely breathe, until he couldn't anymore. He could only keep his red, puffy eyes open in slits. He was exhausted, but he tried to fight the sleep pulling him.

Dean watched his brother fight the unconciousness. He knew it was because of the nightmares, but he also knew he couldn't let him do this, judging by the dark shadows under his eyes. He brought a hand to the back of his head and started petting his hair lightly. It was a gesture that used to soothe him to sleep when he was a kid.

"Go to sleep, Sammy." He said softly. "Everything's gonna be better when you wake up."

He won't promise, because he's not so sure himself.

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Woah! It's been long since I've updated. Well, I've been feeling like crap, since I've had a throat infection. Ugh! It sucks! Swallowing hurts like hell. And you need to do it a lot. :/

Thanks a lot you guys, for everything! And I really hope this chapter wasn't too much or something. :P


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: You. Guys. Rock! Thank you all so, so freaking much for your amazing support! :)

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**_Chapter 7_**

Bobby wheeled back and forth anxiously, dark circles forming around his weary, old eyes from lack of sleep. His anxiety had grew up a notch for the boys, the boys that are like his own. He still remembered the first time John had left them at his house. The protective big brother, kind of scary but respecting, acting more grown-up than his own age, with green, emerald eyes and freckles, Dean. And the little brown-puppy-eyed with floppy brown hair and dimples, shy and sweet, hiding behind his big brother's leg, Sammy. They had won his tough-heart that very day, and turned him into a softy, gave him a purpose to smile and live after his beloved wife's death.

He sighed softly, feeling a small smile tug at his lips. But he shook his head off the memories, worrying his lower lip, no time for a trip down the memory lane. He re-dialed Dean's phone number, hoping he had switched it on now, but it was still switched off. And he felt his doubt change into belief everytime it said that the phone is switched off. The damn idjit really is in trouble.

_These damn idjits are gonna be the death of me._

**XxX**

Dean rested his back against the cold wall behind him, his arms encircled around his sleeping baby brother's vulnerable, broken and bruised body protectively, his fingers unconciously carding lightly down the back of his tousled, messy chocolate-brown hair, breaking through the knots as he stared blankly into place. He tried his best to ignore the bruises that he could actually _feel_ through his brother's thin tee-shirt and the red blotches shown in the ripped places that had been caused by the whip. It was no doubt painful to watch his little brother go through that, and it never stopped replaying in his head ever since it ended, the way they had beaten and bruised him so ruthlessly, careless of the damage they were causing. The whimpers and sobs of anguish that his brother made still echoed in his mind, reminding him of his failure at protecting his kid brother once again. He should've taken him back, shouldn't have turned him down, he could've protected him from these monsters, from having to fo through all of this torture, from becoming so traumatized and _broken_. It doesn't matter that his brother has grown up, it had always been his job. He didn't take care of him for twenty-six years just to stop later. But he was too blinded by the pain and betrayal that he caused. It took a time travel to the future for him to open his eyes. He was his only family now, his little brother, who has been suffering for six months straight, six damn months, earning new bruises and cuts and wounds everyday. Sure, Sam had made a lot of wrong choices that had hurt him in the process, but now, what's done is done. It's time they live in the present, and not the past. How many times had Sam forgiven all his mistakes? Accepted his imperfections?

He was broken out of his deep thinking by a faint whimper and he looked down at his brother, whose eyes were closed in his sleep, but his face was scrunched up in what looked to be deep anguish and desperation, desperate to make it all stop. His face was twisted and tears were leaking from the corner of his eyes as if he was about to cry. He let out another feeble and faint whimper and kept mumbling softly in his sleep.

"M'sorry...pl'se...n-n'more..._pl'se_." He mumbled softly and shook his head weakly against his chest. The long, bony fingers dangling lightly on the edges of Dean's shirt collar tightened a little. And Dean understood it for what it was. _Nightmare_. He thought to himself, and felt another fit of rage take over him at that Tim guy and his pals. He's gonna have his revenge, torture them as cruelly and painfully as he can, the same way they have hurt his Sammy.

_But for now, Sammy is more important to me_.

"Shh...it's alright, Sammy. I gotcha. It's alright." He whispered soothingly in his ear, pulling his shivering body closer and ran a hand through his hair, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, he continued whispering softly. "It's alright, little brother. It's alright..._it's gonna be_. I'm gonna get you out of here real soon, I promise. And they'll never hurt you ever again. I'll make sure of that.."

He heard his little brother make another whimper, but this time, it was a little more quiet and soft. "_Shh_..." He hushed him again softly, running his fingers down his hair to soothe him, giving out as much solace to his broken brother as he can.

Sam eventually quieted down, his shivering had abated after a few words of non-sense comfort and Dean gently thumbed away the fresh tear-tracks that made their way down his brother's baby soft, tender cheeks. He sighed in relief and pressed his weary face into the top of his hair as the memories of the beating that just happened about an hour ago assaulted him once again, needing some comfort of his own. He felt tears well in his eyes again as he replayed it over and over again, unable to drive away one of the worst moments of his life. He moved his hand to rest it lightly below his brother's swollen wrist, careful not to hurt it. The bastards have bruised it with the metal pipe, some old burn marks were visible there too, but there were no chains restraining him now, they probably figured Sam was too weak and vulnerable to fight back and escape from them. And that made Dean's anger erupt like a volcanoe once again, but he managed to keep it under control. It's like he was having mood swings or something as he felt sadness take over him again, and he squeezed his brother's arm lightly, lifting his head a little and burying his nose in his brown hair.

"We should've never seperated, Sammy." He began to whisper softly, talking to his oblivious brother, _apologizing_, for not accepting when he asked to come back in, for not being there to protect him from all of this, for letting him go through all of this. "We were never weaker together, we were always stronger when we were with each other. I was wrong. I should've.." His face twisted as unshed tears formed in his eyes. "- should've been there to keep you safe - safe from all of this, all this pain and this - God, I am so..._so_ sorry you had to go through all of this, Sammy..._alone_." He whispered remorsefully into his baby brother's tousled, messy hair. This was all becoming some mother-of-all chick-flick moment, but he just doesn't care. Growing up a hard-hearted hunter and following in his father's footsteps, he was never a fan of heart-to-heart moments, not because he thought they were effeminate or something, but maybe because he thought they made you weak or soft. Sammy was always the emotional one in the Winchester family, wanting to talk and all of that crap.

His thoughts were cut off once again, and he snapped his head up when he heard the door unlocking. The metal door opened with a low clank as it hit lightly against the wall.

_Oh God. Please not again_.

* * *

CLIFFY! Don't kill me. Aww. A big pile of brotherly moments for all of you crazy readers. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Sorry, this was kinda short. D: But I still updated! Huh? :D *Nods*.


	8. Chapter 8

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**_: Dear God. Oh God. OVER A 100 REVIEWS IN 7 CHAPTERS? OVER 80 PEOPLE READING? Thank you so freakin' much you guys!

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**Chapter 8**

Dean bit his bottom lip and stared quietly as the metal door unlocked and pushed open slowly and noisily with a low clank as it hit the wall, hoping it's not Tim or one of his pals again. He looked down at his brother as he shifted slightly at the creaking sound, grateful that it didn't wake him though because he knew his brother would go on a full panic-attack since he doesn't trust anyone right now, which still saddened him but he vowed to himself that he'll earn it. He looked back up, and froze for a fraction of a second, before a relieved smile crept across his lips and he released a shaky breath of relief, feeling like he could actually cry with joy right now.

"Cas..." He whispered as he stared at his angel friend, feeling a wave of relief wash down on him. He had never felt happier to see him.

"Dean?" Castiel said, his ocean blue eyes filling with relief when he saw them both. He rushed over to both of them.

Dean's smile disappeared and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait, but how did you...?" He began to question, but got cut off.

"Bobby." Castiel answered simply. He looked back and Dean could see four bodies lying down over his shoulder, all of them on the floor and unconcious.

He looked back at them. "They won't be unconcious for very long. We need to get out of here right now. I will take you both to Bobby's house. I have already teleported your car to his salvage yard." He told him. Dean nodded and he raised two fingers to place it on both of their foreheads, but stilled when he heard voices behind him.

"Step away from the boys." Tim growled dangerously, pointing a shotgun and a bottle of holy water in his other hand just in case, but it didn't seem to faze Castiel in the least. He turned towards them and took a step forward when a loud bang echoed the room.

Sam's eyes fluttered open and he blinked against the blur flooding his vision. He glanced around the room blearily, looking at the man in a trenchcoat and then at his tormentors, and he felt terror rise within him at the sight of them as it immediately brought the painful memories to the surface. His head was leaning against something, or..._someone_. He jolted away and immediately curled into a ball, burying his nose into his knees, hugging himself tightly and rocking back and forth. He flinched as another shot rang out and his hand shot up to press hard against his ears, trying to cover them from the loud sounds.

Dean hesitated as his hand in the air, not wanting to scare his brother any more, but laid a warm hand on his back, wanting to give out as little comfort as he can as that's how much he seems to be allowed, to which Sam felt a strange sense of familiar comfort, the familiar warmth.

The hunters' eyes widened as the man in front of them seemed unfazed by the gunshots to his chest. One of them dared to splash holy water at him but he still seemed unaffected. "Wh-what the hell ar-are you?" One of the four stammered out in astonishment and fear. The angel only responded by outstretching his hand, causing them to fly back with a dull thud as their backs slammed against the hard wall.

Now, the fear was shown evidenly on all of their faces, except the leader Tim, who doesn't seem to show them very openly, although Castiel could sense the fear from him.

Dean climbed off the cot and walked over to him, standing nose-to-nose with him. His expression was blank but there was a hint of malice and anger in his voice as he spoke. "Nobody messes with my brother, and gets away with it." He growled threateningly. "You better watch your step, 'cause I'm gonna come back for you. For _all_ of _you_. I'm sure you've all heard about my little trip downstairs. Well, I'll tell you, I've learned a thing or two about torture down there, and I'm gonna be very happy to use it on you."

Tim only smirked, not knowing what a dangerous button he has pushed as he looked over his shoulder at the broken Winchester. "Consider him lucky. Because I could've done worse to the little freak, since he deserves worse." He said pridefully. And the hard-knuckled fist that came straight to his cheek caught him off guard for a small second, before he spat out the blood at his side and grinned in satisfaction at the rage burning in the Winchester's eyes.

He grabbed a hold of his collar. "He doesn't deserve..._any_ of this, you son of a bitch." He spat angrily. Sure, Sam had made a lot of mistakes, pretty huge ones at that. Sure, he had betrayed him, sent the world to hell literally, but he wasn't the only one at fault, Dean had broke the first seal. But out of all, the angels had the biggest part in this. They both had been played all along, and Sam only thought he was doing the right thing, his intentions were pure.

Dean released his collar roughly, slamming the back of Tim's head against the wall. He backed away and sighed deeply, looking at Sam, then at Castiel.

"Just take us to Bobby's, Cas." Dean said softly, moving towards the cot, but making sure not to be in a close proximity with Sam. He ran a weary hand down his face and through his hair and swallowed thickly, wondering about what could be ahead of them.

Castiel gave a small nod and looked at the metal door, shutting it and locking it from the outside. He walked towards the brothers and rests two fingers on each of their forehead.

Sam curled tightly into a fetal position, scrunching his eyes shut. He flinched when he felt two fingers on his forehead and stopped rocking back and forth, opening his eyes slowly and peering up at him. Castiel gave a small sad smile at his friend, who he knew doesn't seem to recognize him anymore. He had first thought of him as an abomination, because all he had seen was the evil demonic blood coursing through his veins, but had never thought to look at the huge heart behind his chest.

There was a gentle breeze of flapping wings before the three disappeared.

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So, what do you think? I'm a little sleepy right now. It's actually 5 in the morning. :) But the funny thing is, when I'm sleepy is when I'm in a writing mood. LOL! So, Sam still didn't learn to trust Dean. Now they're both saved and the healing process begins. Tim and his pals are such donkey-asses, huh?


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Dean sat on one of the chairs in Bobby's kitchen, playing with a beer bottle in his hand with a million thoughts running through his head, all about Sam. How is he going to help his brother when he doesn't even know how to help himself? He was drowning in a deep dark ocean of despair and guilt. All the '_what ifs_' going through his head weren't exactly helping him in the least, filling his heart with remorse and clenching his gut with shame. Sam is traumatized. _Broken_, and probably beyond repair for all he knows. He might never even be the same again. The broken shell of a man, that's all that's left of him.

He immediately felt his palms shoot up to press against the tears unwillingly pooling in his eyes, not wanting to cry in front of Bobby, who was wheeling around the kitchen to prepare some food, or Castiel, who stood quietly at the other side of the room, watching all that's happening around him.

Castiel let his ocean-blue eyes fall on Dean, who looked to be trying to suppress his tears. He knew what he was thinking about, and felt bad for his friend, knowing how much his brother meant to him. He wanted to do something, to make him feel a little better, but it seems that he still doesn't understand humanly emotions that well.

Bobby forced a small smile as he wheeled to Dean with a plate of food. The thick silence in this house was tense and uneasy, and it made him feel a little suffocated. He hadn't found out much from Dean, although he plans to find out the answers of the questions that keep whirling in his mind. All he knows is that Sam isn't the same anymore and that he doesn't trust anyone to come near him. Not even Dean.

He put down the plate in front of Dean, the clink of the glass plate on the table brought Dean out of his reverie as he stopped playing with the bottle and looked up at Bobby, and then down at the plate. Dean licked his lips and returned a small smile of gratitude and appreciation for all his hospitality.

"Eat up, ya idjit." Bobby ordered softly.

"I...I will." He replied and huffed out a small sigh, before grabbing the edges of the plate and stood up, turning on his heel to the door. "But I want to feed Sammy first." He bit his lip and added. "And if he won't eat...then neither would I." He whispered softly before walking out of the kitchen, leaving the sad gazes following him out of the room.

**XxX**

Dean swallowed down the apple bobbing in his throat and rests his palm flat against the door, ready to push the door of the guest room open. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the brown wooden door, sighing deeply, before slowly pushing the door and poking his head in with a light knock.

Sammy was there and fully-awake, sitting cross-legged and rocking back and forth on the further corner of the room. The image reminded him slightly of a younger Sammy, sitting there like that after a terrible day at school, or after a really huge fight with dad, or after the worst of nightmares of Jessica's death haunting him and he didn't wanna sleep, or in the panic room detoxing, cleansing himself of the demon blood (_which he doesn't wanna think about_ ever _again_).

Sam flinched and stilled at the light click of the door ,and looked up at him, pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged them close at the sight of him, tried to swallow down the fear he feels and scrunched his eyes closed to whatever was coming at him.

Dean pushed the door completely wide open, slowly walked inside the room and crouches quietly in front of him, biting his lip. His heart felt like it was breaking in two because he just _can't_ see his brother like this. It hurt too damn much to.

He slowly puts the plate down and said gently. "Not gonna hurt you, Sammy. Just want you to get your strength up a little, 'kay?"

At that, Sam slowly lifts his eyes open and looks up at him through wide and bruised, bloodshot eyes. Dean smiles softly at him, a touch of sadness in it. He slowly shook his head and quickly buried his face into his knees and covered his ears at the expected abuse.

But none came.

"Sammy, you need to eat somethin'." He said lightly as he carefully pushes the plate of food slowly towards him.

Sam stared down at the sliding plate. He noticed that this wasn't like the food given there, where he had to tear the clean chunks off carefully. This didn't have any fungus on the bread and it didn't stink either.

Dean sighed softly, knowing his brother probably wouldn't feel very comfortable if he was in the room, he bit his lower lip and stood up on stiff legs slowly, walking out of the room.

But he still stood at the outside of the room with the door open a crack, watching as his broken sibling slowly uncurls and reaches for the plate of sandwich, tearing chunks of small pieces with trembling hands and eating them.

He ran his fingers down on the door and letting a small smile break into his face, knowing he'll be eating peacefully now.

**XxX**

They both ate in tense silence. Castiel had decided to continue his mission of searching for God and disappeared for a while with a promise of coming back later. Bobby had been meaning to ask a few things about the hunters that took the youngest Winchester, but it seemed like he couldn't spit them out, all the questions still stuck on the tip of his tongue, clenched behind his teeth. But now really felt like a good time, anything to break this uncomfortable stretch of silence.

"So, Dean." Bobby began, and continued when Dean looked up at him as he shoved a spoonful of food in his mouth. "What happened while you were there?" He asked softly.

The question made Dean still as the spoon hung mid-way towards his mouth. There was something in his face, something akin to pain and fear, something that horrified him as he lost all the colour from his face and almost looked like he was going to be sick.

"Dean?" Bobby pressed gently.

Dean looked around, avoiding eye-contact with him as if he didn't want him to see all the emotions in them that could clearly be seen on his face, and he knew immediately that it had something to do with his little brother.

Bobby bit his lip, deciding to let him off with this question as he had already seen all the answers on his face evidently. "Well, they didn't hurt you, did they?" He changed his question.

Dean swallowed and shook his head slowly. "They only had eyes for Sammy." _And that's the worst pain they could ever inflict on me_ went unsaid, but Bobby heard them clearly.

Bobby felt a dull pain aching in his chest for _his_ boys, it was just as hard for him to watch them like this as it was for them. He sighed again and decided to ask the question that had been bugging him above all the others. "And who were the hunters?"

Dean looked at him and looked away, huffing out a small chuckle. "Out of all the hunters it could've been...it was an old friend of dad's." He snarled repulsively. "_Tim_." He spat out the name with such disgust and anger that Bobby would've flinched slightly, but that wasn't what made him still and drop his spoon to the plate and he seemed to pale whiter than a ghost as he turned wide, horrified eyes to the elder Winchester.

"I...oh God, damnit." Bobby whispered in horror and shook his head. "That son of a bitch. God, I should've never sent those bastards to the kid." He said in half-revulsion and half-remorse.

Dean stood up so fast that the dishes on the table rattled slightly. "You what?" He asked incredulously and in anger. "Bobby, you knew better than that, damnit!"

Bobby didn't even flinch a little as he knew that this was coming. "Look, I really didn't know. If I did, I would've never done such a thing."

"Bobby, you know the hunters would've been after him after...after..." He trailed off, not wanting to mention the events of the past year, the year that had made so many cracks on their unbreakable relationship.

Bobby sighed guiltily. "I'm really sorry, Dean. I didn't know."

Dean stared at him but then he closed his eyes and plonked back down on the chair, running a hand wearily down his face. "Actually...I'm sorry." He bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head lightly. "Maybe the fault is mostly mine...I shouldn't have turned him down when he asked to come back in...I should've been there to protect him." He confessed miserably, his voice cracking with emotion and swallowed.

"Don't say that, boy, ya know it's not your fault. Yeah I mean, ya shouldn't have said no when he asked to join you again', but...it ain't your fault." He sighed and turned his eyes to where Sam might be right now. "If you wanna blame anyone for the state he's in, you can blame me, or that bastard Tim."

Dean sighed and swallowed, nodding slightly, the conversation didn't make him feel any better and he still blamed himself for what happened to Sam, but he knew that the hunters' were the one to blame the most, and he's gonna make them all feel the wrath of Dean Winchester.

_Because they touched my little brother_.

* * *

Sooooo, how did it go? OMG! Guys, so sorry for the late update...again. But hey, this one is a little extra longers than my usual 1,000-1,200 words huh? And thank you all so much for the support with all your reviews/favs/alerts. And thank you all for the amazing birthday wishes, they made me really, really happy. :)


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

The night was pitch-black outside of Bobby's window, the only source of light was the dimly shining stars and the brightly glowing moon over the world, the streetlights illuminating the dark road. It was beautiful outside, but it didn't go with how he felt right now.

While Bobby was sleep on the couch in the library, Dean sat by the window of Bobby's house, staring out into the dark night sky, lost in thoughts and wonders undoubtedly all about Sam.

Sammy. His little brother, his younger sibling, his whole world, his only reason to live, his _life_, his only light in this dark life. The person whose laugh drives away all his sorrows. The only person who could make him smile for real, and the only person who could make him cry. The kid he had spent his whole life taking of.

And now he's drowning in deep remorse and guilt and despair, because he failed that job today, and this time, for good. He had a chance to save him from all this, he had a chance to make things different, but he lost it and let it happen. He was his big brother for god's sake. He was supposed to take care of him, protect him. How could he have let all of this happen? How could he make it up to him?

Suddenly, his head snapped up so fast he could've gotten a whiplash, when he heard a loud, broken and terrified scream from upstairs. He had never heard him make such a gut-wrenching and blood-chilling sound but he knew it was Sammy.

He ran out of the room before the chair even hit the floor.

**XxX**

Dean threw the door open and ran inside the room, his hands on the handle of a gun tucked in his waist band as he looked around for some kind of supernatural threat. Finding none, he looked over at his younger brother who was still sitting at the corner of the room, his hands fisting in his hair helplessly and tugging, tears pouring down his face as he rocked back and forth and _sobbed_. His body trembled, was it cold or was it fear? He wasn't sure, and his eyes squeezed shut.

He slowly walked towards him and crouched in front of him. He hesitated, but grabbed his shoulders firmly so he wouldn't move away, ignoring the flinch but pleased when he didn't do anything else like fighting him off. "Sammy?" The older Winchester called softly.

Sam tugged even more harder at his hair and whimpered, and to Dean's horror, he started banging the back of his head on the wall behind him, crying harder at something that Dean just doesn't understand.

"Goddamnit Sam! Stop it!" Dean yelled desperately as he tried to pull him away from the wall, but even after losing a huge amount of weight and muscle, it seemed that Sam still had an advantage over him whenever he wanted to. "Sam! I said stop it!" He yelled again, and felt sick when he saw a smear of blood on the wall. He grabbed his biceps and it took all his strength, but he finally managed to pull his head away from the wall and to his chest, wrapping his own arms around his vulnerable, beaten body so that he wouldn't be able to hurt himself any more and let him fall apart.

Sam's breath hitched as he cried uncontrollably into his neck and clutching at the back of his tee-shirt, wet cheeks tucked between his big brother's shoulder and neck. "M-make...t'...stop." He whispered pleadingly between sobbing gasps. "Make...it..s-stop." He kept repeating the same plea. "_Please_."

Dean's hand slid under the back of his hair, checking for the injury. He felt useless as he bit his lip and asked softly. "Make what stop, Sammy?"

"_T'v'ices_." He whispered. The taunting mantra repeating in his head, abusing his fragile mind..

_Monster. Freak. Evil. Disgusting. Tainted. Worthless. Pathetic. Useless. Retard._

Dean couldn't really understand what voices, but he licked his lips and pulled his younger brother closer and shifted his head to rest his cheek against the side of his head, his mouth near his ear as he closed his eyes and whispered soft words of non-sense comfort, hoping it'll drive them away.

"Shh...it's alright, Sammy. I gotcha, I gotcha." He whispered softly into his little brother's ear as he tried to ignore the fearful and distressed whimpers. "You're safe now, no one's ever gonna hurt you anymore, not while I'm here." He said softly as he tightened his hold around his baby brother.

**XxX**

Throughout the middle of the night, Dean sat quietly beside his brother with his back awkwardly against the board. The younger brother fell asleep on the bed hugging Dean's arm to his thinning chest after telling him to stay with him. Dean knew it was his terrifying nightmares that scared him, but he was really glad at the fact that maybe, Sammy's finally starting to trust him.

Dean slowly and carefully as to not wake his brother up, slid his sore arm out and the tense bone popped with a satisfying pop. He used that same hand to card a hand through his baby brother's brown, girlishly long hair, looking over to the other bed and thinking of spending the rest of the night there, but when he looked back at his brother, remembering that moment when he tried to fight sleep, and now, seeing him sleeping peacefully for the first time in what must've been a very long time for the kid, he decided against it and shifted his position slightly to make himself comfortable. He reached for the blanket at the end of the bed and his eyes accidently caught his brother's right feet, which looked red and slightly swollen like it was burned in boiled water, the discolouration disappearing up into his jeans, and he found himself hoping that's not what happened.

He took the blanket and draped it over his brother and placed a hand on his head.

He never knew when he fell asleep.

XxX

He tensed and his head snapped up as he heard a monotone, gravel voice, but relaxed when he realized that it was just Castiel.

"You are dreaming." Castiel reminded him.

"Right."

"How is Sam?" The angel asked with an odd sympathetic tone, head tilted slightly in awe.

Dean smiled a little as he looked down at his brother. "He's...doing okay." He looked up at Castiel. "'Think he's finally starting to trust me again, Cas."

"That is a very good thing." Castiel acclaimed in his usual gravel, toneless voice.

"Yeah." Dean agreed softly.

The room was filled with thick, faltering silence for a whole minute before Castiel cut through it with a small sigh. He walked slowly and sat down on the foot of the bed. "Do you know?" He asked hesitantly, which was really unusual for Dean to hear.

"Know what?" Dean asked.

"That they have used a lot of other methods other than whips and metal pipes to break your brother." Castiel told him.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "Like?"

The whole room changed, into the room that held terrible memories for him, but even worse for his brother.

* * *

Hey guys! So I just thought that even though six months of regular, merciless torture, it would be enough to break anyone, but I'm sure they had to use more than just whips and metal pipes to break Sam Winchester in six months. He is a Winchester after all, isn't he?

Thank you guys all so much for the support! You guys are just freakin' awesome!

No haters. I really don't like them. Not of the story, not of this awesome show, not of these adorable brothers and especially not of these amazing, cute and talented actors.


	11. Chapter 11

OMFG! I'm so sorry for the wait. My life's been kinda - depressing and stressful these days, so I never really had it in me to write anything, but now I did. Andd, I made it up by writing a longer chapter than usual. :) I'm a little rusty in writing right now. It kinda happens if I don't write for too long. Sorry. D:

The beginning of the chapter is written by 3DBABE1999 since we all know that I can never use those big, awesome words that she did, haha. :) Thanks to her.

**WARNINGS**: Torture (Not graphic). Implied molestation (Only once or twice).

If it's not your thing then you may skip this chapter.

Honestly, I'm not a huge fan of writing torture either, partly because I suck at it. :P But I sorta had to.

* * *

_Chapter 11_

Castiel may have learned a small amount of empathy from his human comrades, but he still lacked the humanity, compassion and common sense to know how and when to use it. The warrior of God that was really an oversized infant with all his naivety about the human race answered in a mechanical fashion, cold, unrelenting and automated in a monotonous voice that show no emotion as he told Dean the horrors Sam had suffered through for the six months he'd been held captive.

And in turn, Dean listened in an equally mechanical fashion, not because he didn't feel, but because he was in to much anguish to do anything more than to sit there, silently screaming as Cas baraged him with, "_There was profound psychological torture_." Dean doubted Cas really understood the meaning of '_psychological torture_', let alone '_profound psychological torture_', but Sam's mental state was enough evidence for Dean to have come up with that on his own, so it was a '_Thank you Captain Obvious. Guess what? _All_ torture is psychological MORON_!' moment. But Cas hadn't stopped going over what Sam had endured despite Dean's inner angry rant, and now Dean's mind was cartwheels over itself to catch up to and make sense of what Cas was saying. Cas kept piling on horrors upon horrors for Dean as he said, "They drugged him with several very addictive substances, they tortured him with various weapons, and they repeatedly molested Sam."

Dean felt awkward, angered and disgusted by the things Castiel had revealed. Then those feelings became worse as Cas pressed two of his fingers to Dean's forehead and showed Dean just what Sam's six months in captivity had been like.

**XxX**

_Mark grinned with maniacal glee as his victim gave a blood-curdling scream in response to the terrible agony, the scream giving into harsh panting and soft gasps. "Are we havin' fun yet, Sammy-boy?" He asked enthusiastically._

_Sam blinked back tears of pain as he cradled his broken wrist and fingers protectively to his chest, swallowing to quiet down his pain-filled noises. He should be used to dislocated or broken bones, considering in their line of work he's had to have that a lot, but no matter how many times he had gone through it, it was still very agonizing. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, feeling fear and disappointment in his heart as he realized that this is making his chances of escaping even more slim as he doesn't have any use of this hand._

_"Oh come on Sammy." Mark bent down at an eye-level with his victim, hands on his knees as he stared at him with that same maniacal glee in his eyes and the grin. "This is barely half as bad as what we're gonna do with you later."_

Sam looked like he was on the verge of passing out from all the pain now. Six broken bones in only a few minutes should do that to you, all five fingers and the wrist of his left hand. Dean watched with a complete blank expression on his face, trying his best to block out all the emotions and the dull ache in his heart that he's feeling. But despite all of that, he had been silently screaming as they tortured his brother.

_The youngest Winchester swallowed. "G-Go...t'hell." He croaked out, aiming to sound angry, but instead turned out more weary and pained._

And despite the flat expression, Dean felt a sense of pride for his brother at that, but it disappeared away quickly when he saw a flash of anger pass Mark's face before a wicked smile stretched across his lips, reaching for his brother's injured hand.

He saw his little brother's eyes widen in fear as realization flickered across his face at what his current tormentor was about to do and he started struggling frantically against the chains that restrained him and prevented him from escaping -

Before the whole room filled with another spine-chilling scream of pain.

**XxX**

_The bucket of hot, steaming water sat innocently on the floor while the youngest Winchester whimpered in excruciating pain in both of his legs, his pant legs were lifted, revealing the reddish swollen and tender skin, blisters forming already. The hunters laughed brutally at his suffering. He bit his lip to keep himself from screaming or crying out, or making any other embarrassing noises, biting down on his lip so hard until he could feel the coppery taste of blood on his tongue, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and tears of agony pooling in his eyes but he had never let them fall._

_"Aww. Poor little Sammy. You gonna cry?" One of the hunters, Rick, mocked and laughed._

_"Don't you think this has gone too far, Tim?" A female hunter, the first and only person to show even a little compassion towards Sam, Margaret asked hesitantly._

Dean observed her to be somewhere in her forties, old enough to be Sammy's older sister, slight combination red-ish and brown-ish hair with huge dark grey eyes, faint wrinkles visible on her skin, and Dean was slightly grateful that there was at least even some compassion for his brother in that terrible place.

_Tim's smug smirk changed slowly into an angry glare, all traces of his sick amusement vanished and replaced with a cold, hard expression. He turned his head to glare at her and she looked down, backing off_.

_He turned his head and threw an angry, hateful glare at his victim. "You think this has gone too far? He sucks down demon blood, teams up with an evil demon bitch, breaks the final seal and starts the apocalypse, and you expect me to let this - this goddamn monster off the hook?" He snarled in revulsion_.

Dean saw the flinch at the word 'monster' and waited for his brother to deny that, to fight back, to retort, do _something_ (_because that's what he wants him to do_). But instead, he watched as his brother swallowed and ducked his head down in shame, letting his hair curtain his moist, guilt-ridden eyes, still holding on to his injured leg. Dean licked his lips and allowed the emotions seep into his face, just for a minute, wondering frantically that '_why isn't he saying something_?'

He turned his attention back to Tim when he saw him smirk bitterly in his peripheral vision.

_"Even his brother doesn't want his sorry ass around."_

_Sam's head snapped up at the mention of his brother, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide in confusion, mouth gaping slightly open._

_"Yep. I heard about your brother's - unending love for you." He said sarcastically, smirking. "Also heard about your little betrayal to big brother, Sammy. Very bad." Tim mocked smugly._

_Sam swallowed down the lump. "I - I didn't betray him." He whispered quietly in denial. "I did it all for him."_

_Tim chuckled. "Well, it doesn't seem so to me, or to your brother for that matter." He sighed dramatically. "Can't blame him either for not wanting your sorry existence, huh Sammy? Whether you believe it or not, it does sound like betrayal to me. I mean, you chose a demon over your own brother."_

_Sam's head snapped up again, different emotions flickering across his face as tears filled his eyes_.

Dean's fists clenched and unclenched in anger at this Tim guy . He knew exactly what was going through his baby brother's head. The familiar words brought back the memories of that night outside of the hospital for him, and he understood for the first time how deeply those words must've cut his brother through his heart.

**_"You chose a demon - over your own brother, and look what happened."_**

**_"I don't think that we could ever be what we were - ya know? - I just don't think I could trust you."_**

_"I bet big brother already knows by now that something's up. - but is he even looking for you right now? Does he even care?" Tim taunted, tilting his head at one side in mock-awe._

_"He's - He's my brother. Of course he'll be looking for me." He whispered weakly._

_"And you think that answers it?" Tim raised an eyebrow, bending down with his hands on his knees. "Do you really think your brother's gonna wanna save you? After all the crap that you pulled? Starting the apocalypse, going behind his back and all that."_

_Sam's eyes darted around on the floor in shame, swallowing over and over at the lump that keeps forming in his throat, the guilt clenching his gut painfully as unshed tears welled up in his eyes, but he still never let them fall, because he knew what he's saying was all true._

**_He...he doesn't really believe them, does he? Of course I'd come for my brother - no matter what he did in the past._**

Dean has never been more pissed at them. He knew the psychological pain had always hurt his brother worse than any physical pain, and apparently Tim seems to know that too. His fists clenching and unclenching as if he just wants to pummel something, his body shaking with rage.

He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Castiel.

He took a deep breath and tried to relax, pushed back his anger into the back of his mind, because he knew there's nothing he can do right now, they're not real.

_Tim tilted his head back and smiled triumphantly, looking back at his fellows over his shoulder._

_"Well, I guess we should just call this an evening." He looked at Sam once again. "See ya tomorrow Sammy." He looked at Rick and gave him a small nod before he turned away and walked outside, gesturing for his fellows to follow him._

_Rick grinned wickedly, holding a bottle of alcohol over his victim, and pouring it's contents all over his body which elicited a scream from Sam as it soaked through his clothes and burned all his wounds, whip-slashes and bruises. _

_And swung the metal pipe in his other hand to his head._

_He fell on his side as the sweet darkness took over him._

**XxX**

_That same night, Sam woke up somewhere in the middle of the night. His head was pounding from the blow, but he ignored it, staring sightlessly at the wall in front of him. He had tried to deny that little fact as much as he could, but he knew it was all true._

_And suddenly, the thought of staying here forever overwhelmed him._

**___"Look, Sam - it doesn't matter - whatever we do. I mean, it turns out that you and me, we're the, uh - the fire and the oil of the Armageddon. You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere. Stay away from each other for good."_**

**_____"Yeah, you're right. We can. But not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us - love, family, whatever it is - They are always gonna use it against us. And you know that. We're better off apart."_**

Years of living with his little brother had made him know his brother better than anyone, and right now, he had that look on his face when he was remembering a tragic past or memory. He'd seen that look after a hunt gone wrong, after a fight with their dad, after Jessica's death, after dad's death, after Madison's death.

And he also knew what he was thinking.

And he knew he didn't give much of a reason for him to not believe that, telling him that they should stay away from each other for good, that they were better off apart.

He swallowed when he saw tears glistening his brother's eyes, his face crumpling as he curled up into a ball on his side and cried alone in the dark, releasing soft sobs from his chest.

_"He's right — they were right." He whispered softly to himself in the cold darkness, biting down on his lip to stop himself from crying anymore, but it didn't work._

_The tears kept coming from his eyes, and the sobs kept building in his chest._

_"M'sorry, Dean. Please __— help me."_

Dean swallowed, sorrow and pain shooting across his chest, guilt bubbling inside of him, because he couldn't save his brother sooner, had let him go through all of this. He was supposed to protect him, keep him safe. But this time, he had completely failed at that.

He was too late to save him this time, just like in Cold Oak. But even then, he had made it up to his brother.

This time, he wasn't sure.

**XxX**

They were heartless and cruel towards his brother, keeping him starved for days, and when they did give him some food, it would probably seem to be something picked out of a dumpster, and that was one of the times Dean had allowed the emotions to seep into his face as he saw the heart-shattering scene unfold itself in front of him, and he could've sworn he heard a crack from inside his chest as he saw his brother hungrily shove all the food down his throat, seeing the first signs of his baby brother breaking. They would knock him out from that metal pipe with a hard blow to his head after some of the torture sessions. (_Cas had told him that that is the major factor of Sam's memory loss, of his current state)._

Forcibly holding him down and injecting demon blood into his veins were probably another one of their torture methods. They had only used that method for one month, and the withdrawals were enough to break his brother already.

The painful muscle cramps, his loved ones spewing hateful words at him, blaming him for all the wrong that took place in their lives. Most of the time, it was Dean though, and that broke his brother sooner than most things could. And Dean knew all this because of Sam's responses to the things only he could see. During his seizures, they left him alone in the room, letting it play itself out, they didn't even care to put some sort of cloth between his brother's wrist and the metal cuff, just let it cut into his soft flesh, and that's how he temporarily lost the use of his other hand.

**XxX**

The whole room changed back to Bobby's guest room, and Dean looked around in confusion, even though he was grateful he didn't have to watch the rest. But he was perplexed as to why they had stopped.

Until it hit him like a ton of bricks, what Cas told him at the beginning.

And he knew he didn't wanna know as he stood in the middle of the room, swallowing down the lump and trying his best to keep his unshed tears under control as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Sam is my friend too." Castiel conceded quietly. "I wanted to help, and that's why I needed you to understand better at what he went through."

Dean dropped himself on the edge of his bed, clutching tightly at the sheets angrily, feeling fury erupt like a volcano inside him at those hunters.

_Then he jolted awake_.

* * *

**THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU** SO MUCH TO ALL OF YOU! AND A MAJOR THANK YOU TO 3DBABE1999 FOR HER HELP! This chapter would've sucked if it weren't for her. I'm not really that good at writing torture, but I hope it was alright? I would say that the blows to his head which damages some of his mental faculties and Sam's loss of memory which leads to his loss of identity is the major cause for his state. BECAUSE...as 3DBABE1999 says. "_Plus getting hit in the head enough times is enough to make someone break (physically and psychologically as it could make the victim forget things (i.e.: their name (and with being called freak and monster Sam would lose his identity pretty quick (loss of identity is a MAJOR factor in breaking a person), that they once used to be free (i.e.: ALL they remember is the violence inflicted on them so it's like they've never known anything else except for pain and they know nothing but how to expect more pain_." Thanks again to her. :)

If there may be some error, then I'm **MASSIVELY** sorry, I sorta wrote this in a rush. But I hope the unusually long chapter makes that up? :D

I do not accept any hate reviews of any kind. If this is why you're here, then please don't waste your time.


	12. Chapter 12

**OH, EM, GEE**! 178 reviews? 138 alerts? 70 favorites in this story? And 14 reviews in my one-shot '_Until It's Gone_', 25 favorites? **THANK YOU SO MUCH**! You guys rock! Each and every one of you.

And no hate reviews. Don't waste your time if that's what you're here for.

And a **MASSIVE THANK YOU** to the amazing AlElizabeth aswell for making this chapter even more awesome than my original one. :) Here's some brotherly love for everyone (including me). :D I also know that it's a very short chapter, but I've been suffering from writer's block and I'm sure you guys understand! *Sniff* You've been there too, right?

* * *

**Chapter 12**

For the first time in very long, Dean cried — _hard_. He held his brother tightly and cried, and he certainly wasn't ashamed to admit that, especially after watching his brother go through such torment and anguish. He couldn't do anything for his brother and he hated that a lot; so he did the only thing he could do for Sam.

Dean held his little brother through the nightmares; when his brother jerked awake and started crying, Dean soothed him with kind, nonsense words and ran his fingers through Sam's hair until he went back to sleep. Dean silently promised his brother that he wouldn't let anything hurt him like those hunters did ever again, and if he had to quit hunting for that, then so be it.

Dean made a silent promise that he'd be a better big brother than ever before.

He cradled his baby brother's cheek with one hand as Sam rested his head against his collarbone tucked under his chin. Dean ran his thumb over his brother's cheekbone affectionately, wiping away the drying tears along with it.

"_I promise Sammy_." Dean whispered softly as he nestled his nose onto the top of his brother's head, fingers tangling under the back of Sam's hair.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

This whole situation had changed Dean; Bobby saw that much. The cocky, bad-ass Dean Winchester who had avoided what he'd dubbed as 'chick-flick moments', believing that they would damage his masculinity, like physical contact such as cuddling—something he had stopped doing with his brother ever since he was sixteen—was currently holding that same baby brother and talking to him in such a gentle and soft voice, a tone Bobby was never sure Dean possessed anymore. Bobby listened in astonishment as Dean told Sam stories from childhood memories, about their mother (_A topic he had avoided at all costs_) and their father, about everything he could think of. He just saw a whole new side of Dean, and he can't blame the kid for wanting to give all his love and comfort to his brother.

But it still astounded him.

Dean had brought Sam downstairs early one morning, explaining to Bobby that he wanted to try to get his brother to go through daily routines and motions, and after feeding his sibling, led him to the couch. Bobby was sure something inside of himself broke at the sight of his surrogate son's state, how emaciated Sam had become, the sight of all the livid bruises on his face and his exposed arms and he was sure the rest of the young man's body must look even worse. Those goddamned bastards must have done a number on Sam, judging by the way he curled up everywhere he sat, the way his wide, huge eyes were wary and terrified as he looked around confusedly, the way he flinched so violently at sudden, loud noises (_Bobby had accidentally dropped a glass and had cursed like a sailor when the broken pieces scattered all over the floor, causing Sam to flinch away from the sound and from Bobby himself_) and trembled slightly in fear and swallowed convulsively afterwards, the way he cringed sharply and froze at any touch (_except Dean's_) the way he didn't even remember how to properly eat, and how he behaved in such a heart-breaking way around anyone else other than Dean, that it could only bring one word to Bobby's mind: _broken_. A soul shattered in so many ways, ground into thousands of pieces, just like that glass he had broken today, shards scattered all over and impossible to be put back together. The thought raised unshed tears in the veteran hunter's eyes, but he swiped at them before they could be released from their restrain.

He wasn't sure if the youngest Winchester could understand a word his big brother was saying with the way he is right now, but he knew it didn't matter, because Sam only needed to hear Dean's _voice_, and that was enough for him.

Bobby watched in awe and with eyes that were filled with love and affection for his two boys as the younger one rubbed his head against the elder's chest, ear right where Dean's heart was, hearing the steady and rhythmic _thump-thump-thump_. Meanwhile Dean stroked his fingers down Sam's cheek fondly in response with a soft smile as he leaned in to press his forehead against his little brother's. Sam only seemed comfortable around Dean, more than with anyone else he'd ever been around like Castiel or even Bobby himself.

Bobby felt rage flare up inside of him, rage at himself for sending those bastards to Sam, at those so-called hunters for all those horrible things to his boy. And he felt sorrow for the kid who had gone through so much in those six months—not to mention the kid had already been insecure enough—and those hunters had only made that worse by making him think that he deserved everything they did to him.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

A few hours elapsed and the brothers fell asleep on the couch. Dean sure looked like he needed a good, long rest after what Bobby guessed had been a long night of looking after his brother. Sam didn't look like he needed the sleep any less than Dean though, what with dark circles still under his bloodshot eyes.

Bobby wheeled himself towards the couch, grabbing the blanket on the other side of the sofa and draping it over both Winchesters before then rolling off again after smoothing a strand of hair away from the broken kid's forehead.

And Bobby wondered silently why all of this was happening to his boys. They had devoted their whole lives to hunting, saving people, had always put a stranger's life above their own. And look where it had gotten them! Neither boy deserved to be in this situation. They had never done anything to deserve this.

_So why_?


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note**: Hello! I'm so sorry for the delay on updates. I seem to be having troubles with my creativity drive, and therefore, unable to think of new ideas. But I'm back now! With only a few plans, but hey, it's still something. The biggest problem though, is that I'm never sure of how to start a chapter. I would keep re-starting it until I'm satisfied with what I wrote. This chapter's a bit Bobby-centric, but we all love him so I know you guys don't mind that.

Enough rambling! Enjoy you guys. It's not long, but longer than I usually do: over 2000 words! Thank you all so much, you amazing people! To each and every one of you out there: _you are awesome_! :D

**MASSIVE** thank you to AlElizabeth, my awesome beta and friend, and also a great writer. You should check out her stories! They're truly great, and she always does her best to be innovative and original, which is one of the things what makes a writer awesome. And also, please check out our collab story; 'Burning Bright', which is on her profile.

Anti-flamers zone.

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**Chapter 13**

Sam was — for what seemed like for the first time in a long time — peacefully asleep in the living room, snoring softly on the couch. Dean lazily walked inside the kitchen, dropping down on a chair as he watched Bobby prepare some coffee. The scent of the steaming brown liquid already perked Dean's senses, taking the slump out of his shoulders and bringing him out of his fatigued state as his surrogate father placed the hot cup on the table.

He gave Bobby a small smile of gratitude and took the coffee cup, letting it warm his cold hands. He allowed himself to be comforted by his surrogate father's presence as the older man's wheelchair came to a stop across from him behind the kitchen table. He was aware of Bobby's gaze on him, and instantly knew what he wanted.

Answers.

Dean took a sip from his cup, and then lowered it down on the wood. He lifted his head and met the grizzled hunter's eyes, not ready for his questions, but knowing he'd have to respond anyway. He owed Bobby that much.

"You don't owe me anything, boy."

His head snapped up at that, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He narrowed his eyes in thought, and for one insane second, he wondered if Bobby was some sort of psychic, or he may have just spoken his thoughts out loud but didn't notice.

"I know you too well, kid. I've spent most of your childhood years looking after the both of you when your Daddy was too busy over a hunt." Bobby explained, smiling fondly at him. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

Dean licked his lips and nodded slightly. It was nice to know he had a choice, but he made a decision that he would still answer every question Bobby asked, except this time it was because Bobby was like a father . . . correction; he _was_ a father to them, and truthfully, more than their own biological, flesh and blood father ever was, and as his father, Bobby deserved to know every detail about Sammy and him.

"I want to know what happened since the moment you stepped through that abandoned building's door."

And so he told him, everything.

"They whipped him and beat him with that — that fucking metal pipe, right in front of me, and I couldn't do a fucking thing to stop it." Dean said shakily, his cracking voice thick and heavy with pain and sorrow. He ran a hand down his face, smudging the fresh tears over his cheeks. His bottom lip quivered as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then continued in a whisper.

"They injected him with demon blood, made him go through all the withdrawals. They — they would shove his limbs in boiling water, pour alcohol all over his wounds. They would break and dislocate his bones, and starve him for days, and when they do give him something, it'd either be stale or half-rotten. They'd beat him for hours on end, a-and then they'd . . . they'd . . ." He trailed off, his voice cracking on the last word as tears colored his eyes instantly at the memories, swallowing and biting his bottom lip as he ducked his head down and closed his eyes.

Dean turned to the older man, his features cold and hard as stone.

"They'd rape him."

The cup in Bobby's hand dropped to the ground, brown liquid spilled over the linoleum but neither man paid attention to the mess. His wrinkled eyes widened and tears welled up in them before the horrified and pained expression transformed into one of fury. He clenched his fists tightly in rage, repulsed that anyone could do something so disgusting, so vile to _anyone, _least of all to one of the two young men he considered his sons.

Bobby clasped Dean's shoulder tightly as the young man buried his face in his hands, all the while fighting against his own tears. He would kill those bastards if he ever had the chance, slowly and agonizingly torture them to death, but as much as he would love to do the job himself, he knew Dean was already plotting on that.

Any other circumstances, he would have tried to stop the young man despite knowing he couldn't, but this wasn't just any simple and common affair in someone hurting his brother. No, this time; these bastards have gone too far.

They've crossed the line.

And he will not make any effort at saving them from Dean Winchester's wrath.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Sam's physique jerked upright and into consciousness, his eyes flying open as he felt something wet trail down his cheeks, looking around frantically in panic, his breathing erratic and heart beating fast. He began to calm down as he became aware of his surroundings, aware that he was no longer there now. The final dredges of his dreams slowly fade away, and his eyes darted around in search of something, or rather _someone_.

But when he didn't find _him_ anywhere; Sam started panicking again, his breathing and heart rate speeding up as his head darted from side to side, pressing his back further into the couch, clutching at the blanket tightly as if that was the only thing keeping him grounded now. A small whimper escaped from his throat, tears welling up in his eyes, his face crumpling against his will as he wondered; Did he leave him? Does he not want him anymore? Does he hate him too now like the bad men always said?

"_Nobody could ever want a retarded piece of shit like you, boy_."

He sobbed as his eyes wandered around desperately, hoping that what his mind was telling him wasn't true. He just wanted _him;_ him to make him feel cared for, to feel safe and protected, to feel _loved_.

But without him; Sam only felt scared.

He hugged his legs to his chest, burying his chin between his knees while he stared down at his feet, tears streaming down his cheeks as he rocked back and forth, sobbing hard as he kept calling his name between them.

"De..."

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Bobby was in the process of making another cup of coffee for himself when he heard it.

A whimper, small and low, but he heard it none the less.

Then silence.

And then a long stream of hard, gasping sobs suddenly filled the long distance between him and the broken kid. He wondered if maybe he should check on Sam, go and try to calm him down even though he knew his presence wouldn't be welcomed (_that thought hurt_). He couldn't call Dean down since he was the one who had sent him upstairs to go get fresh and look _civilized_, even after the numerous protests that Sam would be scared if he woke up alone and didn't find him. That boy, so busy taking care of his brother that he forgot his own needs. It's not that Bobby blamed him, because if anything, he was proud of him for it; but he just wished that Dean would prioritize his own health too.

The noises coming from the living room weighed heavily on the old hunter's heart, and he felt a squeezing sensation in his gut as he caught the childish version of Dean's name between them.

And he just couldn't sit around and do nothing while he heard his youngest cry in that way.

So he wheeled out of the kitchen hastily, as fast as he could.

And within a minute, he found himself in the living room, staring at the trembling curled up frame of his surrogate youngest.

It crumbled his heart into tiny pieces, seeing him like this; crying like a child for his big brother. And if this was what it felt like to him, then he couldn't help but wonder what those sounds, those tears did to Dean's heart; the boy who loved his baby brother to bits. Lord, how damaged Dean must be, having to hear his younger sibling's cries and witness his tears and pain every day and night.

Bobby swallowed down the large, suffocating lump inside his throat, pushing down his own tears as he approached Sam. He thought about what he should do to calm him down; thought about what Dean would do. But he realized it would be different, because Sam _trusted_ Dean, felt at ease around him instead of wary and scared; the only person he allowed to come close to him, to help him, to call him '_Sammy_' and not flinch at the sound of it. Dean was the one he relied on in everything, for giving him comfort, for feeding him, for soothing him to sleep, for helping him through all the daily and regular motions of life. Bobby didn't have any of that.

"It's okay, Sam." He said, his voice rough, but soft. A gentle smile played on his lips, despite the dull ache in his heart at the fact that; this kid, who had shared so many laughs and jokes with him, sent embarrassing pictures of his brother to him, freely embraced him without any fear and distrust whenever they met. And now, that same kid didn't even recognize him anymore; didn't trust him . . . that same kid was _afraid_ of him. But he ignored the deep sorrow weighing on his heart, and added in a light tone, "It's okay. Dean'll be here soon."

Sam froze at his voice, probably from fear or surprise, or both; Bobby wasn't sure. His tears and sobs stopped instantly at his words, his hazel orbs peeking out from his arms; and when he saw the man looking directly at him, he hid his eyes again, seeing only darkness.

Bobby hoped Dean would come down soon and take care of this situation. But he still decided to look on the bright side of things; he wasn't crying, so that was a positive sign. Sam might not like the owner of the voice, but the words were familiar to him.

_It's okay_.

After all, these were the same words Dean would say to him to console him from a nightmare; to calm him when he would feel scared; give him solace when his eyes would tear up after something reminded him of his time with those hunters . . . No, not hunters; _monsters_. These were the words those dicks never said to him, even when they took away that innocent, childhood name and twisted it into something cruel and mocking.

"It's okay . . . you're okay." Bobby whispered to him continually; a light smile blossoming on the old man's lips.

His gentle and soft tone sounded a bit unusual of him, even to his own ears; Bobby realized that, but he didn't care. There wasn't anything he wouldn't be willing to do for these boys, going out of his character and lightening his voice a bit was just the start.

He bit his lip, watching his surrogate youngest for any other positive effect.

And felt disappointment fill him when he found none.

Words couldn't describe how much he wished Sam would trust him again, and not be scared of him; not try to hide from him like this. He knew it would take time, a lot of it, but he couldn't help it. He felt useless, not being able to do anything to help his surrogate son.

But just when he was about to turn around…

He saw it.

A small peek, barely a glimpse of them really; but Sam's wide, hazel eyes were turned towards him, looking at him uncertainly.

Bobby sent a small, reassuring smile his way; a smile that showed him that he was good, harmless, and that he would never do anything to hurt him.

And it was that smile — as if one granting permission — which brought Sam to fully look up. It was hesitant at first; Sam lifted his gaze up ever so slightly, his nose still buried into his knees, his face half-way exposed.

Then he lifted it up a bit more, slowly; all until his face was a complete view.

And Bobby was just amazed, and also rejoiced at that simple gesture. Because he recognized it as a glimmer of trust, which he would feed with all of his love and kindness until it became a full light.

He heard a rumble coming from the young man's stomach, and Bobby chuckled softly, rolling forward slightly.

"You want to eat something?"

He took in the small, hesitant nod and slowly wheeled towards Sam, stopping in front of him, to which the boy instantly averted his eyes to his feet, but didn't hide again; so that was good.

The old hunter held out a wrinkled hand, jerking his head towards the kitchen with the reassuring smile still on his face. "Want to come to the kitchen with me?"

Truth be told, some part of Bobby would have never expected Sam to take his offered hand; not after the way he flinched so violently.

But he did.

Mouth still pressed against his kneecaps; Sam hesitantly lifted his hazel eyes, staring back into his.

And took a great leap of faith as his lanky, trembling fingers slowly reached for the older man's hand, albeit doubtful, but seized it tightly nonetheless.


End file.
